


A Second Coming

by TigerKat



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:07:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4426049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerKat/pseuds/TigerKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace Holloway never expected to see the Doctor again. Certainly not like this. Starring Ten, Martha, Donna and Grace. Written prior to fourth season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Spot the Scrubs reference and get a cookie.

  
Dr. Grace Holloway had lost her intern.  
  
“Martha?” she called, poking her head into the staff room. Dr. Dorian, the only current inhabitant, shook his head without looking up; Grace groaned in annoyance and left the room. Where on earth had the girl gone? She knew it was time for rounds, they did it at the same time every day.  
  
“Martha?” Not in the waiting rooms, nor at the nurses’ stations, nor at the morgue (she smiled briefly at the memory of a man in a Byronic coat and borrowed shoes). “Martha?” Not in the cafeteria, nor the storage closet, nor the emergency room. “Martha?”  
  
Finally, exasperated, she threw up her metaphorical hands and turned around, heading for the nurse’s main station to page Martha. They were more than fifteen minutes late on their rounds by now, and really, it was getting ridiculous.  
  
Voices drifting down a corridor where there should have been silence distracted her, and she turned left instead of going straight.  
  
“...fell out of a tree impressin’ some girl,” a female voice was saying, with deep annoyance. “Didn’t he set up a howl, too!”  
  
“I was not!” This voice was male, young, and offended. “I was looking out for the Ghillighast!”  
  
A snort. “Yeah, and you never thought they couldn’t fly up behind us while you’re gallivanting around?”  
  
_“Gallivanting?”_  
  
Grace shook her head, and put her hand on the door to shove it open and order the occupants to the emergency room, when her errant intern spoke and betrayed her location.  
  
“Doctor,” she said, her voice amused, “I’ll believe Donna over you this time.”  
  
“Oh, now!” The man again, _deeply_ offended. “I would never! Really, Martha, that’s going too far. Ganged up on by my companions, how will I ever live this down. Ow! Gently does it, there’s a girl...hello out there, you might as well come in.”  
  
Grace started, but pushed the door open anyway. “How did you know I was out here?” she demanded. “And Martha, you’re late for rounds.”  
  
Her intern had started somewhat guiltily away from a skinny man in brown pinstriped trousers, seated on an examination bed with his arm half done up in a cast and wearing disgruntlement like a cape. Beside him, a slightly pudgy redhead rolled her eyes and looked thoroughly exasperated.  
  
“Sorry, Doctor Holloway,” Martha began.  
  
“Grace!” The man in the suit jumped up, yelped, and was shoved back down by the combined efforts of Martha and the redhead.  
  
“Sit!” Martha roared. “Or I’ll break your other arm!”  
  
Grace, for her part, had taken a step back. “I’m sorry,” she said, carefully. “Have we met before?”  
  
“I doubt it,” the redhead muttered, leaning all her weight on the man’s shoulder. “You’d remember him.”  
  
Martha shook her head and continued winding the cast. “I lost track of time,” she continued. “I thought I’d be done with him in time for rounds, but he _would_ jump and wiggle about...”  
  
“I do _not_ wiggle...” the man began.  
  
“Donna, gag him,” Martha said, coolly.  
  
“I never!” The man shut up, though he glowered at both Martha and the redhead, and stole several happy, measuring glances at Grace.  
  
Grace watched her intern work in silence for a moment, before she got unnerved by the glances. “Martha, who _is_ he?” she asked, after a moment.  
  
“A friend of mine,” Martha said absently, pasting the final piece on. “That’s Donna Noble, his companion. Donna, this is the attending physician, Grace Holloway. I work for her and I’m late for rounds. Now, Doctor, you keep that on for at least four weeks or until she says you can take it off, hear, and then you come back and see me before you take it off! Donna, don’t let him go climbing any more trees.”  
  
“I could hardly stop him the first time!” Donna yelped.  
  
“I had to climb the tree!” the man said, at the same time. “There were alien life forms after us... you do remember the alien life forms, don’t you? The ones who occasionally want to kill me? Wasn’t my fault I broke my arm then, was it? Grace, tell her it wasn’t my fault!”  
  
There was a moment of silence, and then Martha said, apology loading her tone, “He’s a bit nutters, Doctor Holloway, thinks he’s...”  
  
“Come off it, Martha,” the man said, “she knows me, been around a bit. Not very far, though, eh, Grace?” He gave her a regretful glance. “I’d’ve taken you home. Ah well, no luck, and Fitz came along eventually. Suppose you’ve done well for yourself! Better here that San Francisco. You specializing in cardiology, then, Martha?”  
  
“For now,” Martha said, taken aback. “Doctor...”  
  
And the last piece fell into place. _“Doctor?”_ Grace asked, in a very different tone. “My Doctor? You’re... but you... what?”  
  
“Regenerated,” he said, unruffled. “Twice. First time ‘cause... well, there was a war. Second time was just me being stupid, really, and Rose being very clever indeed. There’s always that, Martha, you never killed me, did you?” He gave Martha a slightly maniac grin, and then turned and grinned at Grace.  
  
She opened and shut her mouth, began to say something and choked it off. Finally, she said, “Regenerated.”  
  
“Yup, like I did in the morgue.” He hopped to his feet and shook his shoulders, and winced again. “Ouch. You know, Martha, are you sure you’ve set this right? It still hurts and I’m sure it shouldn’t hurt this much...”  
  
“If you wouldn’t run around so much it wouldn’t,” Donna said, rather sharply. “Now, don’t we have a planet to save?”  
  
The Doctor shrugged. “The Ghillighast can wait another minute. They did shove me out a tree, after all.”  
  
“Oh, come off it, you _fell_ out.” She tugged on his uninjured hand. “Come on, you lazy arse, you’ll be whining all the way back if we’re late.”  
  
“I won’t,” the Doctor started, and was interrupted by Martha.  
  
“Yes, you will,” she said, packing up the gauze and glue, “and then Donna will have to slap you again and then you’ll whine more.”  
  
He scowled indignantly. “See here...”  
  
Grace, almost apologetically, cut in. “You were always telling me that time was too precious to waste.”  
  
“Now, that is the _outside_ of enough!” the Doctor exclaimed, and ran his uninjured hand irritably through his hair. “I’ll have all three of you know I’ve definitely saved the universe at least five separate times and that doesn’t even count the time with you, Martha, because that was you and Jack, mostly, though of course my brilliance in thinking up the whole scheme to begin with can’t be discounted...” He trailed off, then shook his head, ran his hand through his hair again and was off. “Saved the world several million times, saved all three of your lives, brought you back from the _dead,_ Grace, reversed time at least twice _and!_ I was in the process of saving yet _another_ planet and the three of you just don’t have any idea how terribly impressive I am.” The Doctor finally wound down and pouted indiscriminately.  
  
Which was really not fair, Grace thought, since this incarnation was terribly cute. Her Doctor (she would always think of him as hers, now that she’d been confronted with this new one) had been very good-looking, but in the way that made women’s knees melt. This one sparked the urge to take him home and feed him cookies.  
  
“Oh, all right,” Donna snapped, ungraciously. “You’re terribly impressive. You’re also an idiot. Are we going or not?”  
  
A switch flipped somewhere and the Doctor broke into his insane grin. “Right! Let’s be off, then. It has been _lovely_ to see you, Grace, m’dear, but you know how it is, worlds always getting into trouble and no one to save them but me.” He sighed, and bounced to his feet. “Martha, coming with us?”  
  
Martha shook her head, to Grace’s eye a bit wistfully. “Not yet, Doctor.” There was an awkward pause, and then she added, lightly, “Besides, I’ve got rounds.”  
  
“Correct,” Grace said, and made fluttering movements at the Doctor. “Shoo. I want my intern back.”  
  
He rubbed his neck, and then nodded. “I suppose, if you must. We’ll be off then, Donna.” Before he’d even finished speaking, he was halfway out the door.  
  
Donna paused on her way out. “I’ll make ‘im come back after we’ve done,” she told Grace and Martha. “And then we’ll have a proper chat, yeah? Tea and chips?”  
  
“Sounds lovely,” Martha said, and grinned. “We can tell Grace all about the trouble he’s been getting himself into.”  
  
“Oi!” the Doctor yelled. “None of that, or we’ll come back when you’re both ancient! Then you’ll be stuffed, won’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Donna retorted, walking out the door, “supposing you even aim well enough to get to Earth. Do you really know how to drive that thing?”  
  
“Of _course_ I do, how dare you imply...” The Doctor’s voice faded with distance, and finally into the sound of the Tardis dematerializing.  
  
Martha shook her head, and packed up the last of her supplies. “I keep telling him not to park inside, but will he ever listen?”  
  
Grace shrugged. “It’s not as if anyone ever goes poking around this place.” She hesitated, then asked, “Martha, is he always that...verbose in this incarnation?”  
  
Martha laughed, and smiled at her. “You mean, ‘help, I’m talking and I can’t shut up?’ Yes, he is. But you get to like it. I think you get to like everything about him,” she added, after a moment.  
  
“Yes,” Grace said, and sighed. They stood for a moment in silence, and then she said, briskly, “Let’s get to rounds.”

* * *


End file.
